26. ETHELBERTA'S DRAWING-ROOM
While Ethelberta during the next few days was dismissing that eveningjourney from her consideration, as an incident altogether foreign to theorganized course of her existence, the hidden fruit thereof was roundingto maturity in a species unforeseen.
Inferences unassailable as processes, are, nevertheless, to be suspected,from the almost certain deficiency of particulars on some side or other.The truth in relation to Neigh's supposed frigidity was brought beforeher at the end of the following week, when Dan and Sol had taken Picotee,Cornelia, and the young children to Kew for the afternoon.
Early that morning, hours before it was necessary, there had been such achatter of preparation in the house as was seldom heard there. Sundayhats and bonnets had been retrimmed with such cunning that it would havetaken a milliner's apprentice at least to discover that any thread inthem was not quite new. There was an anxious peep through the blind atthe sky at daybreak by Georgina and Myrtle, and the perplexity of theserural children was great at the weather-signs of the town, whereatmospheric effects had nothing to do with clouds, and fair days and foulcame apparently quite by chance. Punctually at the hour appointed twofriendly human shadows descended across the kitchen window, followed bySol and Dan, much to the relief of the children's apprehensions that theymight forget the day.
The brothers were by this time acquiring something of the airs andmanners of London workmen; they were less spontaneous and morecomparative; less genial, but smarter; in obedience to the usual law bywhich the emotion that takes the form of humour in country workmenbecomes transmuted to irony among the same order in town. But the fixedand dogged fidelity to one another under apparent coolness, by which thisfamily was distinguished, remained unshaken in these members as in allthe rest, leading them to select the children as companions in theirholiday in preference to casual acquaintance. At last they were ready,and departed, and Ethelberta, after chatting with her mother awhile,proceeded to her personal duties.
The house was very silent that day, Gwendoline and Joey being the onlyones left below stairs. Ethelberta was wishing that she had thrown offher state and gone to Kew to have an hour of childhood over again in aromp with the others, when she was startled by the announcement of a malevisitor--none other than Mr. Neigh.
Ethelberta's attitude on receipt of this information sufficientlyexpressed a revived sense that the incidence of Mr. Neigh on her pathmight have a meaning after all. Neigh had certainly said he was going tomarry her, and now here he was come to her house--just as if he meant todo it forthwith. She had mentally discarded him; yet she felt a shockwhich was scarcely painful, and a dread which was almost exhilarating.Her flying visit to Farnfield she thought little of at this moment. Fromthe fact that the mind prefers imaginings to recapitulation, conjectureto history, Ethelberta had dwelt more upon Neigh's possible plans andanticipations than upon the incidents of her evening journey; and theformer assumed a more distinct shape in her mind's eye than anything onthe visible side of the curtain.
Neigh was perhaps not quite so placidly nonchalant as in ordinary; still,he was by far the most trying visitor that Ethelberta had lately faced,and she could not get above the stage--not a very high one for themistress of a house--of feeling her personality to be inconveniently inthe way of his eyes. He had somewhat the bearing of a man who was goingto do without any fuss what gushing people would call a philanthropicaction.
'I have been intending to write a line to you,' said Neigh; 'but I feltthat I could not be sure of writing my meaning in a way which mightplease you. I am not bright at a letter--never was. The question I meanis one that I hope you will be disposed to answer favourably, even thoughI may show the awkwardness of a fellow-person who has never put such aquestion before. Will you give me a word of encouragement--just a hopethat I may not be unacceptable as a husband to you? Your talents arevery great; and of course I know that I have nothing at all in that way.Still people are happy together sometimes in spite of such things. Willyou say "Yes," and settle it now?'
'I was not expecting you had come upon such an errand as this,' said she,looking up a little, but mostly looking down. 'I cannot say what youwish, Mr. Neigh.
'Perhaps I have been too sudden and presumptuous. Yes, I know I havebeen that. However, directly I saw you I felt that nobody ever came sonear my idea of what is desirable in a lady, and it occurred to me thatonly one obstacle should stand in the way of the natural results, whichobstacle would be your refusal. In common kindness consider. I daresayI am judged to be a man of inattentive habits--I know that's what youthink of me; but under your influence I should be very different; so praydo not let your dislike to little matters influence you.'
'I would not indeed. But believe me there can be no discussion ofmarriage between us,' said Ethelberta decisively.
'If that's the case I may as well say no more. To burden you with myregrets would be out of place, I suppose,' said Neigh, looking calmly outof the window.
'Apart from personal feeling, there are considerations which wouldprevent what you contemplated,' she murmured. 'My affairs are toolengthy, intricate, and unpleasant for me to explain to anybody atpresent. And that would be a necessary first step.'
'Not at all. I cannot think that preliminary to be necessary at all. Iwould put my lawyer in communication with yours, and we would leave therest to them: I believe that is the proper way. You could say anythingin confidence to your family-man; and you could inquire through himanything you might wish to know about my--about me. All you would needto say to myself are just the two little words--"I will," in the churchhere at the end of the Crescent.'
'I am sorry to pain you, Mr. Neigh--so sorry,' said Ethelberta. 'But Icannot say them.' She was rather distressed that, despite herdiscouraging words, he still went on with his purpose, as if he imaginedwhat she so distinctly said to be no bar, but rather a stimulant, usualunder the circumstances.
'It does not matter about paining me,' said Neigh. 'Don't take that intoconsideration at all. But I did not expect you to leave me so entirelywithout help--to refuse me absolutely as far as words go--after what youdid. If it had not been for that I should never have ventured to call. Imight otherwise have supposed your interest to be fixed in anotherquarter; but your acting in that manner encouraged me to think you couldlisten to a word.'
'What do you allude to?' said Ethelberta. 'How have I acted?'
Neigh appeared reluctant to go any further; but the allusion soon becamesufficiently clear. 'I wish my little place at Farnfield had beenworthier of you,' he said brusquely. 'However, that's a matter of timeonly. It is useless to build a house there yet. I wish I had known thatyou would be looking over it at that time of the evening. A single word,when we were talking about it the other day, that you were going to be inthe neighbourhood, would have been sufficient. Nothing could have givenme so much delight as to have driven you round.'
He knew that she had been to Farnfield: that knowledge was what hadinspired him to call upon her to-day! Ethelberta breathed a sort ofexclamation, not right out, but stealthily, like a parson's damn. Herface did not change, since a face must be said not to change while itpreserves the same pleasant lines in the mobile parts as before; butanybody who has preserved his pleasant lines under the half-minute's peerof the invidious camera, and found what a wizened, starched kind of thingthey stiffen to towards the end of the time, will understand the tendencyof Ethelberta's lovely features now.
'Yes; I walked round,' said Ethelberta faintly.
Neigh was decidedly master of the position at last; but he spoke as if hedid not value that. His knowledge had furnished him with grounds forcalling upon her, and he hastened to undeceive her from supposing that hecould think ill of any motive of hers which gave him those desirablegrounds.
'I supposed you, by that, to give some little thought to meoccasionally,' he resumed, in the same slow and orderly tone. 'How couldI help thinking so? It was your doing that which encouraged me.
Now,was it not natural--I put it to you?'
Ethelberta was almost exasperated at perceiving the awful extent to whichshe had compromised herself with this man by her impulsive visit. Lightlyand philosophically as he seemed to take it--as a thing, in short, whichevery woman would do by nature unless hindered by difficulties--it was notrifle to her as long as he was ignorant of her justification; and thisshe determined that he should know at once, at all hazards.
'It was through you in the first place that I did look into yourgrounds!' she said excitedly. 'It was your presumption that caused me togo there. I should not have thought of such a thing else. If you hadnot said what you did say I never should have thought of you or Farnfieldeither--Farnfield might have been in Kamtschatka for all I cared.'
'I hope sincerely that I never said anything to disturb you?'
'Yes, you did--not to me, but to somebody,' said Ethelberta, with hereyes over-full of retained tears.
'What have I said to somebody that can be in the least objectionable toyou?' inquired Neigh, with much concern.
'You said--you said, you meant to marry me--just as if I had no voice inthe matter! And that annoyed me, and made me go there out of curiosity.'
Neigh changed colour a little. 'Well, I did say it: I own that I saidit,' he replied at last. Probably he knew enough of her nature not tofeel long disconcerted by her disclosure, however she might have becomepossessed of the information. The explanation was certainly a greatexcuse to her curiosity; but if Ethelberta had tried she could not havegiven him a better ground for making light of her objections to his suit.'I felt that I must marry you, that we were predestined to marry agesago, and I feel it still!' he continued, with listless ardour. 'You seemto regret your interest in Farnfield; but to me it is a charm, and hasbeen ever since I heard of it.'
'If you only knew all!' she said helplessly, showing, without perceivingit, an unnecessary humility in the remark, since there was no more reasonjust then that she should go into details about her life than that heshould about his. But melancholy and mistaken thoughts of herself as acounterfeit had brought her to this.
'I do not wish to know more,' said Neigh.
'And would you marry any woman off-hand, without being thoroughlyacquainted with her circumstances?' she said, looking at him curiously,and with a little admiration, for his unconscionably phlegmatic treatmentof her motives in going to Farnfield had a not unbecoming daring about itin Ethelberta's eye.
'I would marry a woman off-hand when that woman is you. I would make youmine this moment did I dare; or, to speak with absolute accuracy, withintwenty-four hours. Do assent to it, dear Mrs. Petherwin, and let me besure of you for ever. I'll drive to Doctors' Commons this minute, andmeet you to-morrow morning at nine in the church just below. It is asimple impulse, but I would adhere to it in the coolest moment. Shall itbe arranged in that way, instead of our waiting through the ordinaryroutine of preparation? I am not a youth now, but I can see the bliss ofsuch an act as that, and the contemptible nature of methodicalproceedings beside it!'
He had taken her hand. Ethelberta gave it a subtle movement backwards toimply that he was not to retain the prize, and said, 'One whose innerlife is almost unknown to you, and whom you have scarcely seen except atother people's houses!'
'We know each other far better than we may think at first,' said Neigh.'We are not people to love in a hurry, and I have not done so in thiscase. As for worldly circumstances, the most important items in amarriage contract are the persons themselves, and, as far as I amconcerned, if I get a lady fair and wise I care for nothing further. Iknow you are beautiful, for all London owns it; I know you are talented,for I have read your poetry and heard your romances; and I know you arepolitic and discreet--'
'For I have examined your property,' said she, with a weak smile.
Neigh bowed. 'And what more can I wish to know? Come, shall it be?'
'Certainly not to-morrow.'
'I would be entirely in your hands in that matter. I will not urge youto be precipitate--I could not expect you to be ready yet. My suddennessperhaps offended you; but, having thought deeply of this brightpossibility, I was apt to forget the forbearance that one ought to showat first in mentioning it. If I have done wrong forgive me.'
'I will think of that,' said Ethelberta, with a cooler manner. 'Butseriously, all these words are nothing to the purpose. I must remarkthat I prize your friendship, but it is not for me to marry now. Youhave convinced me of your goodness of heart and freedom from unworthysuspicions; let that be enough. The best way in which I in my turn canconvince you of my goodness of heart is by asking you to see me inprivate no more.'
'And do you refuse to think of me as ---. Why do you treat me like that,after all?' said Neigh, surprised at this want of harmony with hisprinciple that one convert to matrimony could always find a second ready-made.
'I cannot explain, I cannot explain,' said she, impatiently. 'I wouldand I would not--explain I mean, not marry. I don't love anybody, and Ihave no heart left for beginning. It is only honest in me to tell youthat I am interested in watching another man's career, though that is notto the point either, for no close relationship with him is contemplated.But I do not wish to speak of this any more. Do not press me to it.'
'Certainly I will not,' said Neigh, seeing that she was distressed andsorrowful. 'But do consider me and my wishes; I have a right to ask itfor it is only asking a continuance of what you have already begun to do.To-morrow I believe I shall have the happiness of seeing you again.'
She did not say no, and long after the door had closed upon him sheremained fixed in thought. 'How can he be blamed for his manner,' shesaid, 'after knowing what I did!'
Ethelberta as she sat felt herself much less a Petherwin than aChickerel, much less a poetess richly freighted with fancy than anadventuress with a nebulous prospect. Neigh was one of the few men whosepresence seemed to attenuate her dignity in some mysterious way to itsvery least proportions; and that act of espial, which had so quickly andinexplicably come to his knowledge, helped his influence still more. Sheknew little of the nature of the town bachelor; there were opaque depthsin him which her thoughts had never definitely plumbed. Notwithstandingher exaltation to the atmosphere of the Petherwin family, Ethelberta wasvery far from having the thoroughbred London woman's knowledge of sets,grades, coteries, cliques, forms, glosses, and niceties, particularly onthe masculine side. Setting the years from her infancy to her first lookinto town against those linking that epoch with the present, the formerperiod covered not only the greater time, but contained the mass of hermost vivid impressions of life and its ways. But in recognizing herignorance of the ratio between words to women and deeds to women in theethical code of the bachelor of the club, she forgot that human nature inthe gross differs little with situation, and that a gift which, if thegerms were lacking, no amount of training in clubs and coteries couldsupply, was mother-wit like her own.